I froze, my breath hitching as my eyes locked onto the sleek SMG rifles each of them carried. A sharp jolt of shock made me stumble backward, colliding with the stack of crates behind me. The impact sent a loud thud reverberating through the warehouse, making my heart pound. Reacting instinctively, I pressed my hands firmly against the crates to steady them, desperate to prevent a cascade that would draw further attention. But it was too late.
"Hey, did you guys hear that? Sounded like it came from over there," one of them muttered, his voice laced with suspicion. He raised his flashlight, the beam slicing through the darkness toward my position. Luckily, I had already ducked behind the very crate I was meant to locate.
"No, you idiot. It came from over there," snapped another, swinging his light to a different corner.
"You're both wrong," the third interjected, his voice sharp. "It came from this direction. I'm sure of it." He motioned toward his side with growing impatience.
"God, this is why the boss can't stand us," the first one groaned. "We never agree on anything. Fine, let's split up. We'll cover more ground that way and figure out where the noise came from. Deal?"
Grumbling in reluctant agreement, they fanned out, their flashlights flickering erratically across the cavernous warehouse.
I exhaled slowly, taking advantage of their confusion. Sliding my hand into the pocket of my arm pouch, I retrieved a location sticker. Peeling it with precision, I pressed it firmly onto the crate. The moment it adhered, it hummed faintly, signaling activation.
[Mission Complete]
The notification hovered momentarily in my vision, a glowing confirmation of success.
Relief was short-lived. One of the armed men was closing in on me, his footsteps deliberate and unhurried, as though he already sensed my presence. My mind raced, scrambling for a plan of action.
Until I came to Annex City, I never imagined I'd have to get my hands dirty. But tonight, it seemed I didn't have much of a choice. My contacts analyzed the figure approaching, the faint overlay glowing in my field of vision.
[Warning: Armed individual approaching.
Strong points: SMG firearm, armored suit.
Weak points: Unprotected face and neck.
Chance of victory: 34.45%.]
Thirty-four point four five? Really? A smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth. I'd been through worse situations. Much worse. If the system doubted my capabilities, I'd prove it wrong.
I steadied my breathing, ready to emerge from my hiding place when a faint, muffled sound echoed from the far-right corner of the warehouse. It was distant, almost imperceptible, but enough to make both of us freeze. The goon turned his head sharply, his flashlight slicing through the shadows. His body stiffened. He glanced forward, then back again, tension rippling through his stance.
"Nico!" he called out, his voice breaking the silence. No reply.
The next sound was far less subtle—a thunderous crash erupted from the far-left side of the building. His flashlight jerked toward the noise, its beam trembling slightly as he scanned the source. He froze, visibly unsettled.
[Back-up delivered.]
"Back-up?" I thought, my brow furrowing. "Who called for back-up?"
The warehouse had just turned into a far more complicated battlefield.